


hanging on the telephone

by hwiplash



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bottom Winwin, Getting Together, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Phone Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 13:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11761155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwiplash/pseuds/hwiplash
Summary: The first time, Sicheng's reasonably certain, is an accident.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time, Sicheng's reasonably certain, is an accident. An actual one.

The weather has been less than optimal the past few days in Beijing, with rain falling in a heavy downpour and fog too thick to see through, and the members of NCT China are all sprawled out on the living room floor, listening to Johnny explain the mechanics of Apples to Apples. When Sicheng's cellphone rings and he takes the call, he finds it almost impossible to make out Jaehyun’s voice over the long distance static and Chenle’s high pitched laughter. He mouths a silent  _sorry, taking this call somewhere else_ to the other members, who are now too busy shouting down Ten’s choice of card to notice, and pads off to the privacy of his own room, closing the door behind him.

"Hello?" he says, slumping backwards onto his bed. "What’s up?" It’s a little odd for Jaehyun to call. He usually sticks to SMS messages, and he’d only just left one in the group Kakaotalk an hour or two ago.

"Sicheng," the voice says. Well, slurs really, all the syllables bleeding into each other. "Hey. Wanna tell you something."

"Jaehyun?" he asks incredulously, and then with dawning suspicion, "are you drunk?" He frowns: Jaehyun's stuttered, labored breathing is a definite giveaway. It’s incredibly rare for Jaehyun to drink on weekdays, never mind on nights before he has recording schedules. "Is something wrong?” As far as he’s aware, Jaehyun hasn’t dated anyone in a couple months, so there’s no heartache for Jaehyun to be drinking away.

"I can't stop thinking about fucking you."

Sicheng nearly drops his phone.

"I'm sorry?" he manages, once he's regained the use of his voice. His heart is still racing at a million miles per hour.

"Seriously. Every night, I just."

No, really, what the fuck.

Sicheng asks, suspiciously, "who put you up to this?"

Not that he really believes that Jaehyun would prank him like this, because there is a distinction between 'silly prank' and 'douchey and obnoxious', and even if any of the other members failed to understand that barrier (unlikely), he knows Jaehyun would never go through with it. And anyway, no one knows about his ridiculous little stupid crush, he's never told anyone. And he's been careful about spreading his affection evenly between members in recent months, tampering down his physical contact with Jaehyun, keeping his feelings under wraps, which means -

fuck, what if Jaehyun knows?

"I'm serious. Sicheng." The way Jaehyun says his name has Sicheng biting the inside of his cheek. "You don't understand - how badly I want you. Wanna get my hands on you, all over you, inside you."

"Look, uh. I think it’s time for you to drink some water, and go to bed - "

"God, I think about you all the fucking time." Liquor always roughens the edges of Jaehyun's ordinarily smooth voice, and right now it's hoarse and dark and incredibly, impossibly hot; Sicheng can't suppress a shiver, arches up despite himself. "I wanna know what your face looks like when you come, Sicheng. Sometimes I watch you when you're performing, when you're up on stage, the way you move, and I wonder how that flexibility comes into play when you're having sex."

"Jaehyun." That came out far more breathless than he'd intended.

"It drives me crazy. The way your shirt sometimes rides up and shows a sliver of skin, and then I just want to -"

Sicheng digs his nails into his wrist, crescent-moon marks etched into the skin, in an attempt to keep his voice even as he says, "Jaehyun, let’s - we can talk about this in the morning. Because I don’t think this is stuff you’d say to me if you were sober."

Then he hangs up without waiting for Jaehyun to respond.

For a moment he just breathes, as evenly as possible, trying to process, well. Everything. "What just happened," Sicheng says aloud, slow, like he's testing the syllables in his mouth. He runs a hand through his hair. For a moment he wonders if he just dreamt it all, Jaehyun slurring filthy things in his ear, but when he checks his cell phone, it definitely records a call from Jaehyun with the correct timestamp.

He barely sleeps that night.

[+]

"Xiaohua," Renjun says, frowning, "are you okay?"

"Hmm?"

"Your cardigan's inside out."

"Oh." Sicheng flushes, and he makes to peel off his sweater. "Thanks. I just, I didn't get much sleep last night." Or at all, he thinks bitterly, but Renjun just nods, the answer apparently satisfying him.

Sicheng is jittery the whole day, from the terrible combination of nerves and lack of sleep; even the smallest noises make his pulse quicken, and every time his phone rings during their filming breaks his heart hammers hard against his ribcage, but it's never Jaehyun. He can't decide whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Their schedules for the day are short, for which Sicheng is immensely grateful, so they're done with everything by five. He plows through his dinner mechanically, pleading exhaustion when the others ask him to join them at the bar. Then he makes a beeline for his room.

He checks his phone for about the millionth time that day. No missed calls, but he finds a bunch of unread texts waiting for him.

 

 **Jaehyun-ie**  
heyyyy  
dong! si! cheng!  
some of the crew on inki took us out for drinks last nite and lee jungwook would NOT let me off the hook  
did u have say no to peer pressure PSAs in yr hs? Never got the need for them until ytd  
doyoung told me i went to the bathroom to give u a rlly long call last nite  
and then i didn’t come back for a long time  
so  
i was drunk out of my skull  
u don’t even know. i puked out everything in my stomach this morning  
idr a single thing  
so  
i hope i didn’t bother u 2 much  
or say anything too cringe LOL  
Sicheng? r u there?

 

Sicheng's fingers still over his phone as he deliberates a proper response. If Jaehyun were in front of him right now, he'd be able to tell, with absolute surety, if Jaehyun is speaking the truth. There are certain tells he's become conscious of, like the way Jaehyun's glance always shifts left, the way his adam's apple always moves slightly before he tells an outright lie. But there are bodies of land and water between them right now, so Sicheng needs to tread carefully. Proceed with caution. He'd have to regardless.

Jaehyun can't know.

 

dw, you didnt say anything that would embarrass you if you remembered it...i think  
you just told me the plot of the notbook for the tenth time...and cried a lot.. lol

 **Jaehyun-ie**  
oh thank god  
also i will not hear the notebook slander!! that movie is a WORK OF ART  
so how’s beijing?

 

Okay, so.

Pretend it never happened. Wipe the entire incident from memory. It really is for the best, Sicheng knows, because there's no way acknowledging the call could do any good for their relationship, such as it is.

Doesn't mean it's easy, though.

[+]

In fact it's downright impossible. Not even a question of forgetting; he can't stop thinking about it, about Jaehyun, and Sicheng starts jerking off at least five times per day, like a hormonal teenager who's just discovered the exciting new world of porn. Youtube videos of Jaehyun's cuts from various music shows - especially the ones with closeups, in HD - receive a sudden spike in views. It's humiliating, and dirty, and wrong: this is one of his coworkers, one of his best friends. And true, he's entertained thoughts about Jaehyun's hands and mouth on his body more often than he'd like to admit, but Sicheng has so far succeeded at compartmentalizing his thoughts, keeping fantasy safely chained and locked from reality. Because he's a professional.

Sicheng definitely doesn't feel professional now, as he slips his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, burying his face into his pillow. As he conjures up phantom ghosts of Jaehyun's voice in his ear, saying  _Sicheng, you're so fucking hot, so tight, gonna suck you off first, then make you come again just by fucking you,_ and oh shit, this is bad. Really bad.

He pulls in deep ragged breaths, squeezes his eyes shut and tries to direct his mind toward the least appetizing images he can come up with. Mark and his new girlfriend making out; goats; that obscure hentai DVD (featuring octopi, talking lamps, and clown costumes, among other things) that Yuta received as a gag gift from his sister; shirtless sweaty Taeyong; shirtless sweaty Jaehyun; Jaehyun just out of the shower, water dripping into his eyes and pooling in the hollows of his clavicles -

"Oh, fuck," Sicheng chokes out, and he gives in, wraps a hand around his cock and jerks it rapidly, whimpering lowly, as his mind keeps running through hypotheticals: how Jaehyun would touch him, if he were here, if he were willing. Jaehyun leaning over him, eyes dark, one hand on Sicheng's cock, whispering  _spread your legs for me_  rough in his ear, and Sicheng hooks two fingers in his mouth, sucking them wet, then lowers his hand and fucks himself steadily, imagining it's Jaehyun's fingers working him open.

When his orgasm hits it's with an echo of Jaehyun murmuring  _come for me, baby_  in his ear, and he bites into his pillow hard enough to leave perforations in the fabric to stop himself from choking out a name, shaking through the tremors of his aftershocks.

He lets oxygen back into his system, gradually, and tries to think through the orgasm-induced haze.

The thing is, he knows he really shouldn't allow jerking off to Jaehyun's mouth to become a habit. But it's physically and emotionally draining both to resist and to give in, and he figures he might as well take the option that offers him an orgasm.

The real dangerous thing is how badly he wants to actually hear Jaehyun's voice like that again, rich and honey-like in his ear, crackling rough over the phone line and beneath Sicheng's skin, because that would involve Jaehyun's active participation, and there's no way Sicheng could ask that of him.

Well.

Unless Sicheng were drunk. But then he wouldn't be able to properly - appreciate it. Fake drunk, then. Maybe Jaehyun will feel obligated to indulge him. Probably. Jaehyun’s kind like that. And then they'll both pretend it never happened, just like the first time.

He just needs to do it once. Just one more time, so he can get Jaehyun out of his system. It'll be like closure, or something. Yeah.

Which, if Sicheng were operating with his normal standards of logic, wouldn't make an iota of sense. Then again, they all say that lust makes you crazy.

[+]

Two nights later Chenle announces that his family wants to take the whole group out to dinner at some secret word-of-mouth eatery, in Beijing’s most fashionable district, that typically requires bookings a year in advance. It's a golden opportunity.

 

Chenle looks somewhat offended when Sicheng tells him he's staying in, but then Sicheng explains that he has an absolutely horrible stomach bug and would rather not leave his own bed tonight. It's not the best excuse he's come up with, but Chenle seems to buy it. A few of the other members offer to stay behind with Sicheng, but Sicheng successfully convinces them that he’ll be just fine on his own, and so they leave hm with a variety of herbal medicines and homemade tea. Guilt twinges in him for a moment, but it's okay, he'll soothe his conscience by buying them all dinner tomorrow.

But that's not something to think about right now.

He has half a glass of red first, just to calm his nerves. Then pulls off, with methodical precise movements, his cardigan, shirt, jeans, boxers, socks, until he's completely naked. The night air feels shockingly cool on his bare skin, but he feels warm beneath it, the heat of alcohol pulsing through him; then he settles himself on his bed, lies back.

Closing his eyes, he reaches for the phone on his bedstand (breathe, he commands himself, chest tightening) and dials a number he knows by heart.

"Hello?"

"Jaehyun?"

"Winwin-ah! It's so nice hearing your voice. What's up?" Jaehyun sounds so cheerful, carefree, and Sicheng feels something sink in his stomach for a moment, his conscience kicking in. He really doesn't want to ruin Jaehyun's evening.

But at the same time, hey, Jaehyun was the one who started it, and it's not as though he doesn’t have a choice - Jaehyun can always hang up if he wants to. And then never speak to Sicheng again, but, well, that's a risk Sicheng is willing to take.

(Possibly he's not in full possession of his critical faculties. He never is when it comes to Jaehyun, anymore.)

He inhales, and then, drawling his words out deliberately: "Ah, I'm so drunk."

He imagines he can hear Jaehyun’s eyebrow lifting. "Oh. Really, dude? The night before a variety show filming?"

“Rich coming from a guy who just recently blacked out the night before a day of packed schedules…”

“That was a once-in-a-blue-moon thing! But okay, point.”

Sicheng pushes on, doing his best impression of inebriation. "Anyway, I’ve had, like, five glasses of wine, and I got around to thinking about you. I've been doing that a lot lately."

"Sicheng?"

His natural baritone dips a half-octave lower. "Can't stop getting off to the sound of your voice. Jaehyun."

Jaehyun draws in a deep, shaky intake of breath that makes the line crackle. "Wait. Sicheng. What. What's going on - "

"Are you wearing anything right now?"

There's a weighted pause. "Just a pair of jeans. But, hey - "

"I'm not wearing anything at all. I'm completely naked, and sprawled out on my bedsheets. Thinking about what I'd want you to do to me." An idea comes to him then; he presses a few buttons and nestles the phone into a crease in the sheets, a few inches from his ear, hands-free.

Someone tell me I'm dreaming, he distinctly hears Jaehyun mutter, and then, "wait, Sicheng, did you put me on speakerphone?"

"Yes. So I can make use of both my hands." Sicheng's voice hitches on air, heart pounding in his ears, and it's all genuine, now. "I'll need them both for this conversation."

There's no verbal response from Jaehyun, but Sicheng can hear the catch in Jaehyun's throat, the way his breathing grows faster, erratic. When Sicheng closes his eyes he sees Jaehyun holding his phone in an iron grip, all his muscles tensed up, panting into the receiver the way he is now, and wait, is that fabric rustling in the background?

"I can't get your voice out of my head." It's all Sicheng can do not to moan; he bites his bottom lip and lowers his voice to a whisper, like he's sharing a secret. "'m always thinking about your voice, your body. Your tongue all over me, dragging a wet line down my neck and over my collarbone. Your hands - god, your hands, they'd feel so good palming my back, my chest, and they'd keep traveling lower, brushing over my cock. And then. You want to know what comes next?"

"Shit, shit - "

And yeah, that's definitely the sound of a zipper being undone. Well then.

Sicheng doesn't need to fake his ragged, heavy inhale-exhale anymore; pure desire does it for him, pushes him forward. It's as though he's somehow pressurized, as though his skin isn't sufficient to contain everything inside. He feels hot and tight all over, undercurrent of electricity running just beneath the surface. There's no question of rational thought. The rush of arousal hits him so hard that he chokes over his next words.

"You - you're getting hard for me, aren't you, Jaehyun? Thinking about how I look right now, undone, spread out and open. Are you thinking about - "

"- bending you over every possible surface? Yeah," and he hears Jaehyun take a deep, shuddering breath; he gasps simultaneously, stomach tightening, as Jaehyun lets out a low groan that resonates over the phone line. "God. I didn’t think you'd be so  _loud,_ every time I've imagined it - never would've pegged you for the type."

Sicheng is just conscious enough to process the statement, and he's blindsided by the weight of the implications: Jaehyun has thought about this before. About fucking him. Sicheng. He wasn't just dicking around.

He thought it'd be practically impossible to become any harder than he was, but somehow he manages, and it's just too much for him, overwhelming. He licks his own palm, firm and wet, before wrapping his cock in a loose hold, sighing with sheer relief from the feel of it. "So is that how you want me? On my hands and knees?" Still tough to get the words out, though - voice so high and strained.

"We - we could start with that," Jaehyun clears his throat, and there, Sicheng definitely hears it: the telltale slap of skin against skin, and Sicheng can picture it with shocking clarity: Jaehyun working his own cock with rough, uneven strokes, precome beading at the head. "Wanna shove you down so I can take you from behind first - start by sliding my cock slowly into you, fucking you with real teasing shallow strokes until you're begging me to go rougher faster harder, and then I'd flip you over, and just - let it all go, force your legs wide open, fuck into you for real, hear you scream - "

It's only when his head bangs against the headboard that Sicheng realizes he's been bucking his hips against the bedsheets. His toes curl into the sheets reflexively, and he matches the rhythm of his own strokes to Jaehyun's, thrusting hard into his fist, tightening his grip; and he brings his free hand down, and further down, to trace around the rim of his opening with his fingertip, teasing himself a little.

"Can't stop imagining it, you fucking me raw with your cock. I want it so badly, I'm aching to be filled, want your hands around my ankles, pushing my legs so far back that it hurts, and then just pounding into me like you can't get enough, can never get enough - oh fuck, Jaehyun,  _Jaehyun_ , please, oh - " And Sicheng's aware of how shameless he sounds, how wanton, with his half-broken, shaky moans and whimpers of  _Jaehyun, I, please, just give it to me,_ but he can also tell that Jaehyun's picking up his pace - it's frantic, now.

"Oh god, the noises you make, fuck," and Jaehyun sounds so gritty, voice raw with lust, and Sicheng just jams his fingers into himself as he arches up into his own touch. "So fucking filthy - god, 'm so fucking close - "

"And then, I want, I want you still inside me when you orgasm, so hot and sticky and wet. I want your come dripping out of me, over my thighs, making a complete mess of your sheets." He can't even recognize his own voice at this point, he's so far gone - no, he  _is_  gone; he comes into his fist, onto his upper body, as he slides his fingers out of himself, and he bites his lip bloodless so as to not cry out, because he needs to hear Jaehyun come. And just a second later Jaehyun is over the edge too, making this low wrecked noise in the back of his throat as he orgasms. Just the sound alone is enough for Sicheng's cock to give one last interested twitch before he collapses with limbs suddenly heavy as lead, slumping back into the mattress, his own come smearing wetly over his stomach.

"Oh fuck, Sicheng, why did you - I wanted to hear you," Jaehyun says, still gasping, voice ragged, trying to catch his breath, but Sicheng stays silent, listening to Jaehyun inhale deeper, more quietly, more calm. Returning to real life. Panic starting to set in.

It's over, just like that.

And that's when Sicheng hangs up. No warning, this time.

[+]

There are occasions when one does something that seems, at the time, to be absolutely brilliant - only to discover, in the bleak light of morning, that it was, in fact, a terrible idea.

This is one of those times.

It's not even something Sicheng can truthfully blame on the wine - he hadn't had enough to induce a hangover the morning after, his yardstick of choice - which makes it all the worse. Because he had done everything consciously. He had called Jaehyun, faked insobriety, put him on the spot, just for the sake of a really great orgasm. Like a drug addict needing his fix.

Sicheng can't lift his face from his palms, regret the predominant theme running through his brain. Why couldn't he have done what a regular human would have and just watched some porn? There's a ton of sexually stimulating material out there on the internet, besides. why couldn't he have been content with continuing to jerk off to Youtube videos of Jaehyun in eyeliner?

Plus, it's not like Jaehyun will ever look him in the eye again. Because even if he'd wanted this - and Sicheng is sure that Jaehyun  _had,_ if his previous night's talk was any indication - he'd never have admitted to it on his own, or sober. The Jaehyun Sicheng knows is a conventional guy, when it comes down to it, and fairly risk-averse. Hooking up with your male best friend and team-mate is pretty far from conventional.

Sicheng is amazingly good at the art of self-sabotage.

The rest of Sicheng's day drags on at an excruciatingly slow pace, and Sicheng is all tense and strained, and in as foul a mood as he ever is - which, admittedly, is not very foul. But he almost snaps at one of the photographers, and that never happens, ever. Every time someone's cell phone goes off, he jumps about a mile and pats blindly at his own pockets.

His own phone doesn't ring until around eleven-thirty, just as Sicheng's pulling on his pajama pants. The phone sits innocuously at the corner of his desk. Sicheng looks at it as though it might bite, and inhales deeply.

In general, Sicheng believes in facing one's demons. (He'll have to face Jaehyun again someday, anyway.) So he answers on the sixth ring, albeit with a trembling hand, and collapses on his bed. He doesn't feel like his legs can hold out for long, knees buckling naturally.

"Sicheng? Are you there?"

Sicheng clears his throat. "Yeah," and then, in a rush, "look, last night – I was completely wasted, okay, I,"

"Look, I know you weren't really drunk last night." Sicheng's grip on the cellphone becomes white-knuckled. "I'm aware of how you sound when you're totally sloshed, Sicheng, I've been around you often enough to know. And the quality of your voice is different when you're drunk, you know? Last night you sounded too controlled, too sharp, and -

You don't have to fake anything, is what I'm saying." Jaehyun's voice is, as usual, gentle and warm, nothing like the rough harsh tones from the previous night. "It's okay to admit that you want this."

For the second time in two weeks, Sicheng is struck dumb with shock. A new record.

"I - what," he starts, stammering, "I dunno what that’s supposed to mean." It was so much easier to blame it on the alcohol, pretend it was an insignificant (and unfortunate) casualty of liquor, but if, of all miracles, Jaehyun wants it - if Jaehyun wants it, then.

Tension leaves his shoulders. It's not exactly happiness that floods in, instead, but relief and a touch of something else.

Jaehyun's still speaking. "You want it, I know it. I want it. Why are you fighting it?"

"I - wait," and then Sicheng hesitates. It's good to be cautious, take measures. "You're not messing with me, right."

The answering laugh is very slightly pained. "Of course not. You don't really think that low of me, do you?"

"No, no - I just - "

Jaehyun wants this, he tells himself, even if this doesn't extend to more than some dirty talk over a phone line.

And well, Sicheng will take what he can get.

"Come on," Jaehyun murmurs, soothing, cajoling. "Tell me what you think about, what you do."

"What do you mean?"

Jaehyun's voice lowers half an octave. "You know. Describe to me what you do when you touch yourself."

"Jaehyun." Sicheng feels his stomach muscles clench up. They are falling into this far too soon, accelerating far too fast, but he can feel his resolve melting in every cell in his body.

"Tell me."

"Don't want to," he says petulantly, feeling a full-body flush move up his neck.

"Aw, are you embarrassed? Because you weren't last night." Jaehyun can be a bit of a jerk when he wants to be, and it's not like he can see but Sicheng tries his hardest not to squirm anyway, as a matter of principle.

"For the love of - fine, okay, I jerk off by watching your performances and listening to your voice. That youtube cut of your performance on _Voice of Korea_ is my prime - um, masturbation material, I work my hand on my cock as I watch you sing. There, are you happy?" Sicheng rubs a hand over his hot cheeks, humiliation rising white-hot within his chest. There's no wine in his system to inspire confidence, tear down his defenses, make this easier, and what if he's totally fucked it up, what if Jaehyun thinks he's pathetic -

He'd expected a laugh, some more teasing, maybe, but instead he hears Jaehyun make a scratched-up, guttural noise in his throat. "Oh fuck, Sicheng, that is so fucking hot." His words are losing definition just slightly, slurring over the edges. "How about - back there. Do you like to bring yourself off like that?"

"You mean - with my fingers? Yeah. Yes." The words come out soft and stuttered, like it's an awful secret.

"Just fingers?" 

"Usually. But sometimes I use, um." He swallows, then lowers his voice until it's barely even a whisper. "Toys."

There's silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then --

"Sicheng," and the way Jaehyun says the name sends shivers up Sicheng's spine, has him grinding the heel of his palm against his groin.

"Yeah, I, I have a - a plug. That doubles as a vibrator." His hand stills momentarily, just his fingertips beneath his waistband. Overcome by a sudden rush of boldness, he adds, "but it doesn't fill me up the way your cock would."

"Oh, fuck you."

"God, I wish you could right now," and Sicheng takes deep satisfaction in the way Jaehyun groans at that, so rough and wanting. "So desperate for your cock, Jaehyun, I - just hearing your voice gets me hotter than anyone else I've ever known."

Not enough oxygen in Sicheng's lungs as he pulls his sweatpants down to his ankles and spreads his legs, just wide enough, listening to Jaehyun pant into the phone as he uncaps his bottle of lubricant single-handedly. Smears the bottle's contents all over himself, making a mess all over his own sheets. He’s going to have to do his own laundry tomorrow.

"Are you sliding your fingers in? Gonna fuck yourself like that?" Jaehyun sounds so unsteady, his breath growing faster and spiraling out of control, and Sicheng can't help still feeling kind of amazed, incredulous that  _he_  has the ability to make Jaehyun lose it.

"I - yeah I am," and there's heat prickling over every inch of his skin as Sicheng brushes his slick-wet fingers over his opening. "I like to run my fingers over my entrance, first, before I push them in. Your voice is all I need to get myself going, Jaehyun, and now I'm sliding them inside - "

"Just one for now," Jaehyun says, and Sicheng grits his teeth so hard they scrape audibly. It's all he can do not to stretch himself wide on as many fingers as he can, but he obeys. "You should work yourself open slowly, take your time. Savor it." He sounds uncertain, suddenly. "I mean – if that’s okay - "

"It’s so good when you boss me around like that." Sicheng's having a hard time hearing anything over the rush of blood pounding in his ears but he manages to keep his own voice locked up, his teeth clamping down on his lower lip, so that he can revel in all the noises Jaehyun is making: breath coming harsh and quick, rough-edged moans, the fast erratic tempo of his hand on his cock. "Jaehyun, I want more, it's not enough - "

"Fine, then, slip in - another, all of them - fuck, are you clenching tight around yourself? Tell me what you think about when you do this, I want to know."

"You." His voice breaks, then. "Your eyes, your voice, your mouth on me, your fingernails clawing into the skin over my spine, you pushing me up against the wall and pinning my wrists with one hand, you lifting me onto the bathroom sink and pushing my legs apart - it's always you I think about when I do what I'm doing now - spreading myself open on my fingers, pretending it's you filling me - "

"Holy  _hell,_ Sicheng - oh god, yes - wanna hear you this time, say my name - "

"Jaehyun," and he feels it, the network of low-watt sparks building up inside him, his cock leaking trails of precome against his stomach and into his bellybutton, and fuck, he's going to come just like this, from his fingers pressing deep inside and the sound of Jaehyun's voice. "I think I'm going to, I, I can't stop - "

His hips lift straight off the mattress when he comes, jerking upward as he shoves one last time into himself, contracting his muscles as hard as he can, every sensation in his body narrowed down to just this.

"Sicheng, god, the way you sound - "

Sicheng is still shivering from the impact of his orgasm, buzz of white noise still clearing from his mind, when Jaehyun comes with one last groan of Sicheng, and Sicheng thinks his name has never sounded so good on anyone's mouth.

Self-consciousness seeps in this time, as their breathing gradually evens out -- now that they're both fully aware of each other. Or maybe that's just Sicheng and his paranoia, because once Jaehyun's gathered enough air to speak he says, quietly, segueing into it with just a hint of awkwardness,

"Sicheng. There are a few things I’d like to ask."

Sicheng hesitates. "What."

"About tomorrow - what's your schedule like?"

He blinks a little at the non-sequitur. "Nothing particularly special? We'll just be doing some more sightseeing around Beijing. Hiking. Getting filmed for a travel show."

"Do you need to wear tight pants?"

"... uh. No. What kind of question is that?" Sicheng draws the phone a few inches away from himself to quirk an eyebrow at it. Possibly orgasms make Jaehyun a little soft in the head.

"Oh, well. In that case. I was wondering if you wanted to try something."

What Jaehyun has in mind is a - risky would be an understatement. Sicheng knows it’s a bad idea to play along when he’s quite sure any self-control he’s ever had has taken flight when it comes to Jaehyun, and he can’t deny that maybe he’s just a little intrigued himself.

“Okay,” he says.


	2. Chapter 2

Sicheng had known, going into this, that the entire day would be excruciating drawn-out torture, but somehow it's even worse than he'd imagined.

There is no possibility of moving without his pants dragging friction against his cock, and he's so, so glad he took Jaehyun's comment at face value and wore loose pants today. Every particle in his body is on tenterhooks, each muscle drawn tight like a violin string. One of his stylists accidentally brushes a hand against his ass when she's helping him tug down the hem of his sweater, and the fleeting touch makes his spine snap up, ramrod-straight, wire-taut, and he can't keep from grimacing. The stylist shoots him a worried glance. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, I'm fine," he answers, plastering on a smile, and manages to force down a hiss as he shifts, and his cock momentarily catches against the waistband of his boxers.

She furrows a brow and looks at him uncertainly. "If you say so."

Today they're supposed to be playing at being tourists for a travel program, exploring Beijing's under-advertised scenic spots, going on a morning hike and then a short beach trip, which means that his ass won't be seated in a chair for long periods at a time, thank god. It's been a long time since he's kept a toy inside himself for more than an hour, and Sicheng honestly doesn't think he could handle it, entire hours ticking by molasses-slow, as the hard plastic of his seat works the plug even more deeply into him, pressing it up against his prostate -

"Your face is redder than a tomato," Renjun says. "It's pretty hot out today, huh?"

"Yeah, it's way too hot," Sicheng mutters, flushing an even deeper shade of scarlet. Ten's gaze settles on him for a few beats too long, contemplative, and oh fuck, there's no way Sicheng can keep up this charade for the rest of the day.

No morning has ever felt so long to Sicheng, ever - each hour feels like twenty. As they trudge their way up the hiking trail, Sicheng keeps his hands firmly planted in his pockets, discreetly maneuvering the cotton fabric so that it doesn't rub too much friction against his overly sensitive cock, and keeps his walk as stiff and mechanical as possible. Thankfully Johnny keeps chattering in his ear about this new band he’s obsessed with, and seems too distracted to notice anything.

Then a green alert pops up on Sicheng's phone. It's a text message. From Jaehyun.

He doesn't respond. Doesn't even slide his phone open, because he  _will_  be professional at work, and he is 100% positive that whatever Jaehyun sent him can't be worksafe.

When they finally stop for lunch, Sicheng hesitates as everyone settles themselves around the restaurant table, eying the free chair warily. He's almost grateful when his cell phone rings.

"Sorry, have to take this," he tells the others, flashing them a quick strained smile, and makes a mad dash for the restroom. He doesn't press the answer button until he has the door of his stall locked.

"Jaehyun," he whispers, insistent, not waiting for Jaehyun to say hello, "I'm out with the others right now. Filming."

"Hey," Jaehyun murmurs, deliberately low, and Sicheng kind of hates the way his cock twitches in his pants at the sound of Jaehyun's voice. Pavlovian response. "Oh, I know. Just wanted to see how you were doing. Did you get my text message?"

"I’m not about to open anything from you in front of a crowd of people. Especially not around Chenle. Or Renjun."

"Are you alone right now, then? I'm guessing a bathroom, by the acoustics."

Sicheng exhales shakily, forcing air out of his lungs in pieces. "What if someone notices? For that matter I'm pretty sure some of them have already noticed. Johnny had to ask me three times what kind of soda I wanted at the convenience store before I could pay attention." He can't bite back a soft whimper. "Because I can't think, can't move without being, um,  _stimulated_  more. I just - "

"Sicheng, quit worrying and take off your pants. Now."

" _Jaehyun._ " It comes out too loud; his voice echoes, and he can't help flushing, suddenly hyper-aware of how raw and strung-out he always sounds when he moans Jaehyun's name. He lowers his voice to a whisper. "What if someone comes in- "

"You said last night that you’d listen to anything I told you, didn’t you?” Jaehyun’s voice is silky smooth. “Are your pants down yet? And your boxers? Don't touch yourself except when and where I tell you to."

"Wait, does that mean," Sicheng bites his lip as he undoes the button of his slacks with one hand, then pulls his pants and boxers down until they're pooling around his ankles. This isn't something he's ever done before, asking for permission, but there's something thrilling about this, too. Handing over control, completely. "That I can, can I get myself off?"

"No. There's a switch on your vibrator, isn't there?"

Unsteadily, disbelievingly, Sicheng murmurs, "Jaehyun. You’re crazy."

"Turn it on. Please. Just for a second, then you can switch it back off. I just want to hear your voice when you do it."

It’s nearly unbearable, the pain of needing- no,  _craving_  release, cock straining and hard, but it's as though his body and voice are working of their own volition. Carefully, making sure not to brush any part of his body against the germ-infested walls of the bathroom, he bends his knees just slightly, spreads his legs as far as his rolled-down pants will allow, and leans forward so that his free hand can reach around to cup his ass, before trawling further.

It takes only a finger brushing against the rim of his opening for something to snap within him, and he nearly stumbles forward, knees buckling from the sheer intensity. "Oh, fuck, Jaehyun," tears out of his throat before he can grit his teeth closed.

"You’ve gotta keep your voice down," says Jaehyun smoothly, which is really fucking rich of him.

"You're not making this easy, jerk face," Sicheng hisses, feeling blindly for the ridge of the tiny on-off switch along the flared edge of the plug. He has to blink back tears every time his fingers accidentally nudge against his rim- it's so  _much,_ he's overstimulated and miserable and in pain, but he can't touch himself. Won't. Not until he's given the green light, the go-ahead.

Finally he manages to brush against the toggle, and then flips it left with a flick of his nail, and, well, "fuck," he says, or at least means to say. He stifles the noise by biting down so hard he nearly punctures the skin over his lip, as his muscles involuntarily clench and tighten around the plug, feeling the way it vibrates inside him, and he lets out a stream of muffled noises, pleas and curses and Jaehyun's name, over and over, so close to the edge,

and at least Jaehyun's getting into it too, his breath quickening as he says "want to see you so bad right now, Sicheng, bet you're biting your lip so it's as pale as the rest of your skin, and you have your eyes screwed shut, ass in the air and  _trembling,_ bet you look so good, fuck, want my hands on you- "

Sicheng never thought he'd allow himself to beg. "Jaehyun, I need to- please, please, let me- "

"No. No you don't." And just like that, Jaehyun's voice reverts to passive, and Sicheng has to wonder at Jaehyun's newly developed self-control. "Now switch it off."

And Sicheng acquiesces, even though every square inch of his skin is begging to be touched. Because these are the rules in the game they're playing.

"You can't come until nightfall, that was the deal," Jaehyun continues. "Also. You should check the message I sent you earlier. It’s a pretty nice self-portrait, if I do say so myself."

Nudes, then. Sicheng feels a whole new rush of relief at not having opened the message while Johnny was still beside him (and more than a smidgen of curiosity). "Bye," he says, quickly, and hangs up. Every muscle beneath his skin is still quivering as he pulls his pants back up, and he's more aroused than ever, his body wound so tightly he's going to be feeling the strain days later, but he'll stick it out, he has to.

When he finally returns to the lunch table, most of the other members are nearly done with their meals. "Everything's gone cold," Renjun says, chastising. "What took you so long?" Then he peers more intently into Sicheng's face. "Also you're, like,  _really_  red. And sweaty. I know it's hot, but not that hot. Are you sure you’re ok?"

Sicheng can't meet their eyes. "I've just been feeling under the weather lately. Kind of sick," he lies, curling his fingers into his clammy palms. (It's kind of true. For certain values of 'sick'.)

"Do you need the half-day off?" their manager asks, looking concerned, and Sicheng is about to accede gratefully (if also a little guiltily) when Ten leers. It's a mildly terrifying look on his typically pleasant countenance. "Sure," Ten says, evil grin etched across his face. He makes little air-quotes with his fingers. "'Sick.'"

Sicheng very rarely feels the impulse to punch anyone, but right now he would gladly shove a fist into Ten's smug face if it weren't for the rolling cameras. I am a professional, he recites beneath his breath.

"I think I'll be fine, thank you," he says, sweetly, then glares daggers in Ten's direction when everyone's gaze is turned elsewhere.

It's a good thing though, he reflects an hour later, that his carefully-constructed image is that of an innocent angel (which he finds pretty hilarious, especially given the current circumstances), because when he refuses to remove even his shirt at the beach, everyone chalks it up to him being demure and modest.

The truth is that his nipples are stiff and prominent against the cotton of his shirt and his cock is so hard he's afraid it might defy the laws of anatomy and  _explode_ , but no one needs to know that. Especially not Ten, who's thrown Sicheng more than a few sly, knowing glances since they left the restaurant.

Of course it's Jaehyun's fault- utterly, completely his fault (conveniently ignoring the fact that Sicheng had certainly been on board last night)- so it's with mounting horror that Sicheng realizes he can't keep his mind off the unread message on his phone, no matter how often he attempts to redirect his thoughts to cleaner pastures. Sicheng’s not big on trading nudes normally; his experiences have mainly involved photographs taken in toothpaste-flecked bathroom mirrors of men standing aloof and awkward, their splotchy dicks curving like misshapen sausages above their thighs, but. It's Jaehyun- 

"Someone please kill me," he moans, muffled, against his wrist. Over his head, Renjun and Johnny exchange worried looks, and Johnny makes some low comment about being touched in the head by too much sun.

Sicheng only manages to resist temptation for half an hour; he's carefully positioned himself on a beach folding chair, idly watching the others play beach volleyball, and ensuring that it's mostly his hip that makes contact with the cloth and not his groin or ass, when he thinks  _to hell with it_  and opens his messages.

And, well,  _fuck._

He's seen Jaehyun shirtless before: everyone in NCT has. For that matter, he's seen Jaehyun completely naked before, on his way out of the shower- but he hadn't previously seen Jaehyun, well, naked and  _aroused_ like this, and

it's a terrible thing for reality to be better than your fantasies, sometimes.

"Why did I do this to myself," Sicheng wails, burying his face into his hands.

By the end of the afternoon, Sicheng is a flustered mess. Thankfully they have no mandatory evening plans: Renjun offers to take the group out to a fancy duck dinner at _Da Dong_ , an invitation which the others enthusiastically accept, but Sicheng declines politely. Again. And promises, again, that he’ll treat everyone to dinner another night. (His dalliances with Jaehyun are becoming costly affairs.)

"You're being such a loner these days." Johnny pouts, lower lip jutting out. "You can't be finding us insufferable  _now,_ can you? After putting up with us for years."

Sometimes Sicheng is relieved that his fellow band members are, with few exceptions, completely oblivious. "I- I'll eat later," he says quickly. "Thanks, hyung," and then escapes before anyone else can ask inconvenient questions.

He starts stripping out of his ensemble as soon as he gets to his room, lightning speed, articles of clothing scattered across the floor in line with his footsteps, and just when he's about to unlock his cell phone, it rings. He inhales a lungful of air before answering, tries to keep the shaky edge out of his voice when he greets Jaehyun, tries  _not_  to sound like he'll come unglued at the seams, utterly undone if he can't touch himself in the next thirty seconds. "Oh. Hi. That was fast."

"Hey." He’s a little amazed by how Jaehyun can make a greeting sound so ridiculously lewd. "What did you think?"

"Of?"

"Oh come on, don't play dumb."

The image flashes across Sicheng's mind, unbidden, and he crumples- draws his tongue across his fingers and reaches behind himself. "Um- It was a nice view."

"Thank you kindly." And maybe Jaehyun is psychic, because he says, smugly, "Hey now, I didn't say you could touch yourself."

"I." The heat that's taken up residence in Sicheng's chest grows stronger, stark contrast to his cold, bare skin. His muscles draw so taut he feels practically immobile. The phone almost slips out of his grasp as he sets it on speakerphone and places it on his desk. "Jaehyun, you win, ok? I can't do this, I need to touch myself or I'll, I'll- "

"You can hold out, I promise. You've held out this long so far. I have faith in you. Besides, remember, you told me yesterday you'd do whatever I asked of you today." Jaehyun's voice lowers, roughens until it's nearly texture instead of sound. "Thought you _promised_."

And it's true enough, Sicheng's subconscious has toyed with the idea much longer (and more often) than Sicheng would ever admit, to himself or otherwise. The idea of Jaehyun reining him in with just a pointed look, a word, letting Jaehyun have complete and total control over him-

He must have made some kind of embarrassingly primal noise without noticing it, because Jaehyun laughs, and then murmurs, "got a kink you want to share with the class, sweet cheeks? Does me ordering you around get you off?"

"I- " Sicheng's face burns. "I need to- move, please, need to do something- " He gulps. The room is spinning. "I  _need_ \- "

"Slide the plug out. Slowly. There. How did it feel, wearing it all day?"

The tightness in Sicheng's chest loosens, just a tiny bit, in time with the movement of his hand, as he presses a finger to his rim, feeling the ring of muscle, before easing the toy out by its base; it glides out so smoothly with the aid of all the lubricant, and it's downright filthy, how wet-slick and smooth he is inside from hours of stimulation.

"Um, thick. A lot thicker than my fingers, for sure." Sicheng sucks his cheeks hollow, bites into one side, tries to breathe steadily. "It wasn't enough though- wasn't you- " And he counts it as a minor victory, because Jaehyun distinctly mutters a curse, a dark jagged noise in his throat, but he doesn't break.

"Now slip in your fingers instead. Slow. One, first, then two. Slide them in as far as they'll go."

"Jaehyun," and Sicheng can't stop shivering, can't help desperately arching his spine and rocking back shamelessly as he fucks himself on his fingers like he's been starved for touch, pressing them in deep enough to feel the rasp of his knuckles, crooking each finger so they rub against his prostate, the ache of his arousal burning white-hot and sharp, his mind's vision blurring around the edges. He has to lean his forehead against the wall for support as his legs give way beneath him. "I'm going to come from this if you'll- "

"No. Go slower, then. You can't yet. I won't allow you." Jaehyun's voice is still fairly even but there's a hint of a tremor in it, too, now. His control being edged over increment by increment. "Wrap a hand around the base of your cock so you don't come."

Sicheng forms a ring around the base with his thumb and index finger and  _squeezes,_ tight as he can, and slows his pace reluctantly, thrusting his fingers in with more shallow strokes. He can't stop shivering, shaking, and he tries to keep his voice soft and steady as he bites out, "so loose, Jaehyun, from having it in all day - dripping wet - pliant and ready for your cock,"

and utterly fails, shell shocked by fresh new waves of  _want._

But it's okay, because he can  _hear_  the shudder that goes through Jaehyun, even as Jaehyun hisses "you can touch yourself how you want to, now. But you still can't come until I say." And then, after inhaling long and deep: "Tell me what you're doing. How it feels."

"Hey," Jaehyun says, gentle now. "Trust me."

And he does.

 

Swallowing, he lets his eyes flutter closed.

"Come for me, Sicheng," Jaehyun says, and it's exactly what Sicheng's fantasized about countless times before but so, so much hotter -

 

\--

 

They fall into cyclical habits.

Every few days, Sicheng gives Jaehyun a ring, or vice versa, and each call always ends with both of them gasping, fucked-out and shaky, over the line. Somehow neither of them have run out of desires to narrate to each other yet. Sicheng is almost certain that he's had more orgasms in the past month than for the entire year preceding it. His ass is sore and his cock sensitive more often than not, but it's worth it, hearing Jaehyun murmur filth into his ear, and returning the favor.

 

"Tell me how you'd like to fuck me right now."

"Wanna press you up against the wall, have your legs wrapped around me, your hands fisted in my hair and your teeth digging into my shoulder, with nothing else supporting you except me - "

"Yes, fuck, Jaehyun, _yes_  - please - I want you to manhandle me, push my legs back by my knees - stretch me on your cock -"

"Yeah? You want my hands on your ass, spreading you open?"

" _Please_ , yes - want to take all of you in, squeeze tight around you - "

"Sicheng - you make me so fucking hard - gonna lose it - "

 

or:

 

"Are you imagining it right now? Me crawling into your lap, the rim of my entrance brushing against your cock - "

"Yeah - 

 

or:

 

"Hell - if these are the noises you make when you finger yourself I need to know what you sound like when you get fucked, jesus - your voice is already so deep, wanna know how you'd sound if I fucked your mouth, your pretty lips sucking me off - if your voice gets all raspy after come goes down your throat - "

" I'd get down on my knees for you - unbutton your jeans, mouth at your cock through your briefs - "

"Fuck, Sicheng, I bet you would look so good on your knees, too, looking up at me through your lashes - and afterward I'd kiss you, hard and deep, and taste myself on your mouth - "

 

In stark contrast, the gist of their nightly online chats doesn't change. They talk about prosaic things, as friends do, about their daily lives, their friends, their families, the success of the new recipe Jaehyun recently attempted, the live scorpions Chenle bought at the night market, and Jaehyun never mentions their phone conversations, in passing or otherwise. He's friendly, silly, fumbling, warm, the Jaehyun that Sicheng knew before the phone calls began. It is almost as though Sicheng's speaking to two different people.

And Sicheng wants both. He wants to possess every part of Jaehyun. He always has. and he can't seem to keep his head together.

The sex (if it could be called that) doesn't deteriorate, because hearing Jaehyun still gets him hot and desperately wanting, but Sicheng now pauses to think before he answers Jaehyun's questions  _what do you want from me._ It's a standard dirty-talk question that demands a standard dirty-talk answer -  _your mouth on my cock, your cock slamming into me_  - and they'd be true, for Sicheng, but he also wants to hold hands with Jaehyun in dimly lit movie theatres and pretend he doesn't notice Jaehyun crying; he wants to wake up in the morning to find Jaehyun hogging all the sheets.

There is a limitation on things he can ask for, though.

"God, I want you so much it  _hurts_ ," Sicheng breathes, and then slips up. "I've wanted you for - I don't know,  _years_  - "

There's a sudden silence then, horrified on Sicheng's part and undecipherable on Jaehyun's, and Sicheng is just about to apologize for overstepping his boundaries, for exposing too much of himself, when Jaehyun says "yeah, Sicheng, fuck, me too," rough and earnest, almost like he means it.

Not that Sicheng will let himself genuinely believe that - people will say anything in the throes of arousal, after all. Plus. Hoping is dangerous, and Sicheng too cautious to take that risk.

 

\--

 

Then Jaehyun crosses the line.

There is a certain level of distance (and therefore safety) in just _wishing_. Sicheng feels comfortable enough with wishing, because at the end of the day, wishes are empty words without a promise of delivery. Which is why it becomes an issue when Sicheng notices a shift in Jaehyun's speech, over the course of their now-nightly calls; he stops saying  _God I wish I could fuck you, want you so bad_  and instead says  _Can't wait to hold your wrists over your head when I see you again, lick around the perimeter of your body_ ; it makes a knot of desire twist in Sicheng's stomach that isn't purely sexual.

And that isn't okay, the constant reminder of how badly he wants Jaehyun, in more ways than what he has now. Sicheng can't have Jaehyun giving him empty promises. There are lines he needs to keep firmly in place.

He needs honesty.

It takes him a while to gather the courage, because rejection is always tough (and he considers it inevitable), but the days slip by far too fast - as they say, when you're having fun - and suddenly there are only two unmarked boxes before  _FLY BACK TO KOREA_  on his wall calendar. He'll have to see Jaehyun in person again, soon. And before that happens, emotional resolution is essential.

"Hey, Jaehyun," he says, finally, once the last of his orgasm has abated, rush of endorphins gone.

This time around, Jaehyun came first so his voice isn't breathless when he answers, "yeah?"

"The stuff you say to me on the phone. Do you mean it?"

The air hangs silent and heavy and painfully tense between them for a moment, harsh crackle of distance in Sicheng's ear, and to his horror Sicheng finds his eyes starting to brim just before Jaehyun says, cautiously, "yeah. Of course."

"All of it? Like how you say you'll touch me when I get back?"

A sharp inhale. Bad sign. "Sicheng -- "

"Sorry. I know this is supposed to be all fun and games, but I just." Sicheng gestures helplessly, heat prickling behind his eyelids, even though Jaehyun can't see him. His invisibility makes frankness easier, in a way. "You should know." Then he has to pause for a moment, vocal chords working. Squeezes his eyes shut.

After a stretch of silence, Jaehyun prompts, very quietly, "I should know what, exactly?"

"I mean, you should know what you mean to me." The lump in Sicheng's throat is so difficult to speak around, but he can't swallow it down. "And it's probably more than you think."  _I will not cry_ , he tells himself sternly, and lays forth the ultimatum.

"Not that I don't enjoy what we're doing now, but you can't say these things you don't mean. You keep saying you're going to touch me, or real, and we return to Korea in two days. I need you to figure things out - "

"Sicheng," Jaehyun cuts in, gentle but firm. "I have, okay? I've figured things out."

"You have?"

"I meant everything I said. All the things I said I'd do to you, I will. For real." The ensuing pause is careful, but much less tense. "If that's what  _you_  want. What I'm trying to say is, what you said you felt about me, I could say the same for you."

"Oh," Sicheng says, exhaling, and for some reason he's unable to doubt Jaehyun for a second. Trusting implicitly.

"Okay," he says after some span of time, "ok," and he recalls, for a moment, every single time he's ever thought to himself  _this is the happiest I've ever been_ , and there is no question about it. Right now trumps everything.

 

\--

 

Sicheng starts panicking about an hour into the flight.

The rest of the group is waiting for them at Incheon International Airport when their plane lands. Everyone falls into a large sloppy pile of hugs and greetings, and Sicheng smiles as bright as anyone, determinedly not looking for any specific person, ignoring the way his heart rate is shooting through the roof.

It's while he's getting all the air squeezed out of his lungs by Donghyuck's bear hug that he spots, from the corner of his eye, Jaehyun standing alone in the corner, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Hey," Jaehyun says to his feet. The tips of his ears are red.

Sicheng swallows audibly. "Hi."

They end up seated next to each other in the company vans that bring them back to the dorms. Behind them Chenle and Jisung chat animatedly about their respective adventures in the past months, the trinkets Chenle had discovered in the 798 Art District, Jisung trashing Doyoung and Taeyong’s dorm room, but Jaehyun remains silent, staring out the window watching scenery whip by. The expression on his face is unreadable. The inch of space between them feels like miles, and Sicheng doesn't know how to fill that gap.

 _Maybe Jaehyun was lying - I did back him into a corner_ , Sicheng thinks, fear starting to build up in his throat.  _Or maybe Jaehyun changed his mind upon seeing me or something, or maybe, maybe -_

But then Jaehyun's hand suddenly circles around Sicheng's wrist and squeezes, almost painfully hard. Sicheng looks over and sees the way Jaehyun's shoulders are hunched together, tension thrumming through every muscle, radiating nervousness out of his pores and, well. One of them has to be the brave one, take the first step.

"Hey," Sicheng murmurs, smiling, and Jaehyun turns over to look at him, and Sicheng supposes that his own expression must reveal the right things, because all the lines and angles of Jaehyun's face loosen then, relax, and Jaehyun smiles back. A real smile, this time.

"Hi," he returns, and it sounds like he's saying so much more than that.

 

The rest of the ride drags on for far too long. After everyone bids goodbye to Chenle and Jisung, and then push their way through the door of the lobby, Ten and Jaehyun both offer to give Sicheng a hand with his extra luggage. "It's fine, thanks hyung," Sicheng tells Ten, "but just having Jaehyun help me out is enough. I’ll see you tomorrow."

Ten looks thoughtful for a moment, and then Sicheng has to wonder if his face can really be read so plainly, because Ten's expression then dissolves into a smirk. "Good night, then," he says, and then adds, "play nice, you two."

Sicheng ignores that comment.

After he unlocks the door, and the two of them drag his suitcases inside, his heart rate starts hiking up again. He finds it kind of funny, how neither of them had been afraid to lay bare their filthiest, deepest fantasies when there were miles laid out between them, but now that they're together in the flesh, his grasp on language is tenuous at best. Exhaling, he stammers:

"Jaehyun, I - "

\- and doesn't get to finish his sentence, because suddenly Jaehyun's mouth is on his.

One hand in his hair and the other curling fingers into the small of his back, hips pressing sharply into Sicheng's thighs. It's been a long time since Sicheng's kissed anyone with intention, and it's never been quite like this, sweet and dirty at the same time. Jaehyun coaxes his mouth open, slowly, nipping gently at his lower lip, hands touching Sicheng all over. Sicheng moans into the kiss, and Jaehyun's grip on his shoulders tightens.

"Fuck, I've missed you so much," he murmurs against Sicheng's mouth, and then Sicheng pulls back so he can look Jaehyun full in the eye, and it's like he unlocks something, somehow both new and familiar. He thinks about how funny it is to have love requited, and how he will need to rediscover Jaehyun from scratch.

Then, finally, "me too," he returns, voice low.

"So," Jaehyun says, after a beat. His eyes are still a little wary, gaze flickering. "Are we - ?"

"Do you want to be?"

"Yeah. I do." Gently, Jaehyun tracks his thumb over the curve of Sicheng's left ear, a familiar gesture that is now instilled with a strange new intimacy. "Really. definitely. absolutely."

Yes.

Sicheng's mouth curves into a smile, then, and he leans in, hand fisting into Jaehyun's shirt.

"Then - I've been keeping track, you know, of all the things you swore you'd do to me," he breathes, quietly, into Jaehyun's ear, and draws that low, half-choked noise from him that Sicheng is so accustomed to now. "So. Care to make good on your promises?"

It's only a matter of seconds before Jaehyun's belt hits the floor.


End file.
